Leave it for Tomorrow

Yeah... Quiet now... Cables out, the cooling fans spin down. Spin down. Rubbing the stiffness from my thumb. Gloves on the steel, a mark by the sink. Water runs clear, I finally fixed the sink. The drive is backed up, the desk is a mess. A knot of muscle tight in the neck. The board is full, I stop reading. Grey dust on the floor, chalk on my shoes. I'm not adding more to the list tonight. I already have too much to do. Sweeping up the pieces of glass. Watching the red numbers pass. Leave it for tomorrow, it stays. I'm just clearing the space. No more hum, no machine. Just the silence settling in. Just silence... In the room... Cold coffee ring on the graph paper page. Push back the chair, disengage. Tie up the bag, toss what didn't work. Didn't work. Boots on the linoleum, a little jerk. Scraping the residue off the flask. Wiping the table until it's bare. It's bare. One monitor blinks, then it goes black. Goes black. I don't turn around, I don't look back. I don't need a result, or a reason why. I just need the floor to fucking dry. (It won't fucking dry) Sweeping up the pieces of glass. Watching the red numbers pass. Leave it for tomorrow, it stays. I'm just clearing the space. No more hum, no machine, Just the silence settling in. Everything unplugged. Everything shut down. I stand here for a minute, Feet on the ground. Lock the door. Lock it up. Leave the key. Let it be. Done.